Where is the fine line between being a fan and being an addict? I always thought that I was just a fan, be it in the simplest form of 3 in 1 with some hot water, or at the mamak, or even the version with all the fancy names... think frapuccino! Yesterday, I realised (rather horrifiedly!) that I've passed the stage of just being a fan and had graduated to the status of an addict. As to when on earth did this strange occurence take place, I have no idea. Now, it's been a habit of late (on working days, that is) where I have a cup in the mornings or during lunch break, where I rummage my bag for that red tube of deliciousness that exudes an aroma that fills the air with delight, but to my dismay, I found none! I rummaged again, but all I found were rectangular packets of cereal... no way, this can't have happened. I'm sure I replenished my supply just last week. Distressed, I opened my desk drawer, hoping against all odds that a stray red tube might be lurking unde...